<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>persisting • by softpine</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018207">persisting •</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/softpine/pseuds/softpine'>softpine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:15:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018207</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/softpine/pseuds/softpine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“My mistake. I thought you had the same sort of someone. Someone you’re persisting for.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>persisting •</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning for all the standard things: death, ghosts, murder, etc.<br/>Nothing graphic, just mentions!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Over the river and through the woods, Finn trudges through a blanket of snow, shielding his eyes against an onslaught of flying ice shards. The weather seems to be getting worse only to mock him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steers clear of the creek, but the partially frozen water chugging along beside him, spitting chunks of ice over fallen branches, is a constant reminder of things he doesn’t dare think about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus,” Finn tells himself. “You’re here for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His feet carry him to the campsite on their own accord. It’s empty, the land flattened by time. Maybe the area still sees its fair share of visitors in the summer, but with the harsh sleet beating down onto icy ground, there leaves no sign of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the tent. The tent stands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not real,” Finn whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white tent curtains blow open a sliver as the wind picks up speed. Inside is only a void.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not real, just open it, fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>open it</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a surge of blind desperation, Finn kicks the zipper in, the seams bursting open. A gust of wind takes care of the rest. Finn closes his eyes. It’s not real, he knows, yet he hears the smashing of a bottle, the cursing and the arguing and the engine roaring. The colors behind his eyelids swirl, red and black and blue. They won’t open. He can’t make them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he hisses and turns back. “I can’t. Asa, I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits for a response that never comes.</span>
</p>
<ul>

</ul><p>
  <span>Finn returns to the last place he can think of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All these years later, there are still black burn marks on the legs of the overpass. If he looks closely enough, he thinks he can see the cracks in the asphalt where the tires landed, though they've long since been paved over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strangely enough, Finn is alone here. He half-expected Aileen to be waiting for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t find you anywhere,” he says to the ground, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, Asa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everywhere he’s looked — the forest, the beach, the cabin in Granite Falls, the run-down communal rental in Del Sol Valley, and all the way back to Finn’s old house — have been glaringly devoid of Asa. If he'd visited any of their usual haunts, he hadn't left any trace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know where to look,” he sniffs, then balls up his fists. “Fuck! Where </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A bush rustles to his right. Finn snaps his eyes open, stupidly expecting to see Asa climbing out of it, assuring him it was all a test. Not real. Finn wouldn’t even mind failing, if it meant Asa was safe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s a woman. She flickers in the sunlight, pallid and opaque. A curtain of dark brunette hair partially obscures the bruises over her eyes, the only indication of her demise. She doesn’t speak. She simply stands in front of Finn and stares.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another woman lingers behind her, in rougher shape and seemingly unaware of her surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” Finn starts. “Hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more alert woman nods in response, but says nothing further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do I know you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn wants to shake </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>, ask her what the fuck she wants, tell her to go away so he can be a miserable failure in </span>
  <em>
    <span>peace</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he bites his tongue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s something oddly familiar about the couple. Finn has largely stopped paying attention to the other spirits that surround him; their glassy eyes and pained moans really put a damper on any semblance of normalcy that Finn has created for himself. Still, he recognizes the regulars. The old fisherman who putters around the docks looking for his missing lures. The C-Lister who stands, frozen, in front of the drive-in theater. The teacher, who lectures a group of students only visible to her. Finn knows them, as much as he can without speaking to them, and he knows these women aren’t like them. But he can’t shake the idea that they've met before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I’ll bite,” Finn says, when the silence becomes unbearable. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone who can help,” she replies. “Or, Reece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Reece.</span>
  </em>
  <span> How does he know that name?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn looks behind her at the blonde woman mumbling nonsense and twirling in circles, locked in her own world. “And her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Genevieve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns it over in his mind, but comes up blank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know Asa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look too old to have been friends with him. And Finn is sure Asa would’ve at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>mentioned </span>
  </em>
  <span>it if two people he knew died. Then again, maybe Asa doesn’t tell him everything. That would be okay. Finn’s not entitled to know everything about him. Really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I never had the pleasure,” Reece says, slowly. “But you could say I have a vested interest in his well-being.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn squints at her. It’s driving him crazy. Who </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> she? Would Asa even recognize her? Did she attach herself to Asa the way Finn did so long ago? At least Finn had the excuse of being a lonely, fucked up kid. What’s Reece’s excuse?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you can help,” Finn says, steering himself back on track. “How? Do you know where he is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not exactly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she just leaves it there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red-hot anger is ballooning up in Finn’s chest. He’s lightheaded, like the helium leaked into his brain. “Can you just tell me what the fuck I’m supposed to do, or leave me </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reece doesn’t flinch. Finn doesn’t know if he wanted her to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know where he is,” she says. “But I think you can find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Finn’s voice is strangled. “That’s the point! That’s why I’m here! Are you even listening to me? Or are you as brain-dead as Genevieve over there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn’s mouth closes so tightly his teeth clatter. He hadn’t meant to say that. Why can’t he ever just shut up?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reece’s face shutters, but she doesn’t leave. Finn thinks he would have left a long time ago if anyone talked to him like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I waited for her,” Reece says with far-away eyes. “In that hospital room, I waited for her. I was ready. But she couldn’t let go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It clicks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So long ago, Asa had pointed his chubby little kid fingers at a picture of these women in a family photo book — because his family is the type that keeps a photo book — and told Finn as much as he knew about them, which, admittedly, wasn't much. They were his great-grandparents, Reece and Genevieve, who were hit by a drunk driver, right where they’re standing. They were parents to a whole slew of kids, somehow including Asa’s grandma </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>his uncles. Asa tried to explain how the family tree broke down into pieces and got repurposed after they died, but it had made Finn’s head hurt to think about all those connections. Now, he wishes he’d paid more attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shame colors Finn’s cheeks. “I - I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reece waves one hand through the air. Crisp, brown leaves materialize, swirl around her hands, only to be carried away by the wind. Finn hardly has a moment to process it before she says, “I won't leave without her. You know what that's like, don't you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My mistake. I thought you had the same sort of someone. Someone you’re persisting for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Persisting.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As if Finn had chosen his own fate. If he had, he can’t remember it, so that shouldn’t count.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's not... I’m not just staying for Asa.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn't know where to go, anyway. Or how.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stop? That's really annoying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should probably try to be nicer to Asa’s dead great-grandma. But God, she’s infuriating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I leave now? When I finally have a purpose?” he blurts, regretting it instantly, but unable to stop talking. “Everybody dies. When Asa dies, maybe… maybe I’ll go somewhere else. That doesn’t mean I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>persisting</span>
  </em>
  <span> for — Why do you even care? None of this matters. I still have to find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reece blinks, then nods. “Yes, that’s right. You do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So do you know where he is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but —”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Reece</span>
  </em>
  <span>—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but I can send you there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve picked up a few tricks along the way,” Reece says, the barest smile on her lips. She opens her hands and, just as with the leaves, a handful of red flower petals appear, drifting through the air. They dance past Genevieve and into the snow-tipped trees. “I keep tabs on him; on all my family. While I can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>where he is, I can feel it. I would have gone to find him myself, but...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you can’t leave her,” he says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reece nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Finn takes a deep breath. “What are you waiting for? Let’s get this show on the road.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lest we forget Finn has actual anger issues... :/<br/>Anyway, thank you for reading! ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>